HATE (Editing)

9

If you have no intention of catching me, don't ever make me fall...

Zac pushed open the door after taking the trash out. His gaze was distant as if he had been thinking about something for quite some time.

"Doll,"

“For the umpteenth time, it's Julia...”

"Just listen," he washed his hands at the tap before heading towards me. I continued mopping assuming his presence.

"I have to tell you something,"

I stopped for a couple of seconds and he took this as a go ahead to speak whatever was in his mind.

"I need you to trust me. Whatever happens. Whatever time. Even if I hadn't said anything about it before,"

“Why would I?” I stopped in my tracks realising that Zac was standing right behind me.

I felt his cold muscular arms wrap themselves  around my waist.

Tell him to let go.
But that's not what you want. Is it?
Don't argue with me.
Who's me?

I found myself spinning around and we were now facing each other. I couldn't quite read the emotion in his eyes. They seemed too distant.

"Julia, I'm not him,"

How did he know about Jack?

"Can't you give me just one shot?"

“I don't know what you are talking about. Let go of me,”

"But you aren't resisting. Not like before. What is it about me you hate?"

“Everything,” I hissed back. Getting on the defensive.

I felt him pulling me closer to him such that I could sense his heartbeat. But he was right. I wasn't resisting. I wasn't moving away. I felt the grip on the mop I was holding loosen as it landed on the wet floor. I felt his full kissable lips land on mine. As much as I didn't want to admit it, it aroused a different feeling in me. Not like Jack's meaningless kisses. Zac's was more deep and passionate. Like it was filled with longing, frustration and love? No. It couldn't be. But I did something I never thought I'd do. I kissed him back. He tugged on my hair gently deepening the kiss. I didn't want this. But my body defied me. I felt him break the kiss as he traced my jawline with his lips.

"Just one shot," he whispered in my ear.

My heart was racing fast. Too fast for my liking. My breathing was ragged. I hated this feeling. The feeling that I should give him a chance. The feeling that I would like to get to know more about him. The feeling that there was more to him than just a handsome face and a gorgeous physique. The feeling that, he was scraping the walls off my heart. I hated it. I hated him. I pushed him off of me and grabbed my coat. Before he could react, I was out the door. I hid behind the dumpster and sure enough, heard his footsteps come after me. I was glad he didn't find me. Right now, I was a mess. Where did it all start? My mind raced back to the events that had occurred in the weekend.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Katrina and Jason had gone for a party. Of course they had invited me, but I declined claiming that I was feeling a little under the weather. Luke had gone to work at their firm. I was more than surprised to find out that he was a junior partner at a big law firm. He had told me that he had got a transfer and was more than glad to come back to his hometown on that day he took me there. It was a Saturday morning and I was home alone. I went through the locked drawer that was in my room. I had made sure to lock the door. Just in case. After carrying the drawer to my bed, I scattered all that was in there. A couple of letters, pictures and a book. Every single item had four conspicuous words...

On my last day...

What could that possibly mean? I picked the book that more or less looked like a diary. It's title read HATE.

Should I read it?
Yeah. What is written should be read.
But it wasn't for me...
Then why did you open the drawer in the first place...
True.

For once, my internal debate had ended with a logical conclusion. I opened the book. A single thought kept on running in my head whenever I flipped through a page.

Relatable.

It was surprising how Cassandra's thoughts and emotions were so familiar to me. It felt like I was living her life all over again. Maybe that's why I reminded the Lockharts of her. I could say we thought alike. I wondered if anyone else had read it. Though, I highly doubted it. As I kept perusing through the book, I kept on nodding my head affirmatively. I couldn't explain it. She sounded just like me. A few hours later, I found myself on the last page. The handwriting was scribbled. It read...

Finally. On my last day. I choose to die by my own hand. To erase my own pain and my own memory from this earth. To live like the wind. I have never asked for anything. But, that, if anyone should die today, let it be me. I am responsible for my own life. I don't need forgiveness. I will never ask for it either. It is the choice I made. To free the earth of my horrid existence and to hope that in my place, someone like me, will choose a different fate. I am responsible for my own life. No one else's.

Right below the writing was a blood stain. From how it looked on the book, I would guess it was a knife cut. But the blood wasn't too much, indicating she couldn't have died by slitting her wrist. She sounded just like me. Someone like me. Someone like me. The writings replayed themselves in my head. I, was someone like her. I looked at the letters. They were all addressed to her family members. I too didn't understand this. They weren't opened. Maybe the Lockharts found it hard to read. The pictures were of the Lockharts family, but each was shredded. The girl's head, in every single picture, was absent. Had she chosen to cut herself out of the family pictures as well? What had happened to her? How did she reach such a conclusion. The last letter I picked was strange from the rest. The recipient was,

To someone like me,

I know this might sound crazy, but, it was my will to die. Leaving behind those who love me, quite ironic, right? That is it. I didn't want love. All I wanted was hate. Hatred. To seep into my veins. That's what you want too, right? For people to stop making an effort for you. I wish I had met you sooner. We'd die together. Not as people in love but as people who died, for hate.

I didn't want to die? This couldn't be the whole letter. I'm sure she wouldn't advise someone else to commit suicide... Would she? People who made an effort for me... I knew them. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, Zac was among them. I quickly returned everything to where it was, except for the last letter. I drew my blankets and lay asleep  for some time. Sunday passed by quickly, with me constantly questioning myself. I didn't want to die. At least, not now. Not in that way. That's when Zac's door opened. In my mind and in my heart. I didn't want the same fate.